


Zero Drunk Thirty

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 07:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12648978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: Danny’s drunk. Really drunk. So maybe that explains why he’s standing in front of Steve’s house with this intense need to kiss someone. (And by someone, he means Steve. In case that wasn’t obvious.)ADDED: Chapter 2, Steve's POV on Chapter 1.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on a chaptered AU for the boys, so hopefully that’ll be fun, and hopefully pretty soon. But in the meantime, something short and sweet, to help tide you over.... 
> 
> I feel a little bit like I’ve written something like this before, but... it’d be impossible to have ‘too many’ _The Boys Showing Up At Each Others’ Houses Wanting To Kiss_ stories... right???

Danny was standing on Steve’s front walk. Looking up at the house with some kind of knot in his stomach, glaring as though somehow it was the fault of the house that he was there, possibly about to do what he wanted to do—what he’d _been_ wanting to do—for he didn’t know how long. He supposed there’d always been some sense of inevitability to this happening, if he drank enough. He’d thought he’d be safe, with a group of Bridget’s friends who were here for a work thing. But “Meet us at the hotel bar for a drink, Danny!” had turned into pitchers of something vibrantly colored that must have been a lot stronger than he’d realized, and fortunately he’d taken a cab over there anyway, so when he’d stumbled into a cab to leave, he must have given Steve’s address without really thinking about it, because that’s where he’d ended up.

He tried to clear his head, but it was growing fuzzier by the minute, and as he gave up and walked towards the door, he realized he was drunker than he thought, because walking straight shouldn’t be this difficult. Danny had keys. But Steve had a gun, and Danny wasn’t about to walk into Steve’s house unannounced in the middle of the night. Doorbell seemed rude, somehow, and also likely to involve a gun. Ah. Phone. That was better.

Pulling out his phone to text Steve, he sat down on the step and thought of what to say. _I’m out front let me in_ seemed reasonable. So, he wasn’t really sure why a message that said _I’m out front come kiss me_ is what he wound up sending.

Whoopsie.

Well, at least it worked. Danny heard the door open, and turned around to see Steve, gloriously sleep rumpled, boxers slung low on his hips, chest delightfully bare, expression... bemused, perhaps?

“How drunk are you?” Steve asked softly, as Danny stood. Well, tried to stand. Steve stepped forward to steady him, which Danny thought was nice, and he wrapped his arms around Steve in an awkward hug.

“Pretty drunk,” he admitted. Not like he could hide it, if he wasn’t really able to stand very well. Damn Steve smelled nice. Did he always smell this nice? Maybe it was the bare chest... Danny nuzzled into it, trying to determine if that was it. It was probably just soap, he knew Steve didn’t use anything fancy. But it must have been new soap, and Danny decided he liked it enough that he should kiss Steve’s chest. Which he did. Mmmm, that was nice too. Steve’s chest seemed to agree as it vibrated gently in response.

Oh. Steve was chuckling. “You’d better come in, Danny.”

Once Steve’d got them inside the door and closed it, he pulled back and looked down at Danny. Which made Danny feel bold. Why did it make him feel bold? Usually when Steve looked at him like that he felt uncomfortable. Because it was more than friendly. Well, Danny was feeling more than friendly now, so:

“Kiss me.”

Steve sighed, and it seemed to Danny that he looked a little sad. “You are drunk.”

Unsure what that had to do with anything, Danny persisted. “So? Kiss me.” It didn’t seem persuasive enough, so he added: “Please?”

Steve chuckled again, looked like he was debating with himself, then leaned down and pressed a soft, feather light kiss on Danny’s lips. Which was nice, but Danny had a whole lot more in mind. As he tried to move closer, Steve pulled back.

“Okay, let’s get you some water.” Taking Danny by the hand and leading him into the kitchen, Steve poured a glass of water, and got some tablets from a couple of a jars in the medicine drawer. “Tylenol and some vitamins,” he said, setting them down on the counter next to the glass. Danny nodded and drank, swallowing the pills without questioning.

As though his obedience should have earned him a reward: “Now will you kiss me?”

“I did kiss you, you goof.” Steve didn’t laugh, but he did sound amused.

“Hey. That’s my line, you goof. Isn’t it?” He felt a tad confused.

A wry smile. “Yeah, it is.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “You stole it.”

“Borrowed it.” Steve smiled softly.

“Alright, then can I borrow a kiss?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered closed, and it looked to Danny like he was saying a prayer. When they opened, they looked... veiled. Locked down, or something. Danny didn’t like it.

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you to bed,” and Steve pulled again on Danny’s hand, leading him towards the stairs.

Danny had a vague notion that if he was going to bed he should take his shoes off, so he tried to kick them off as they went, and he stumbled. Steve’s stunning reflexes were up to the task, even in the middle of the night, however, so he caught Danny before he fell. They stood there, pressed up against each other, and Danny could feel Steve’s chest thumping against his.

“Your heart is racing,” he murmured, to Steve’s throat, and saw, up close, as Steve swallowed. Gulped was more like it. He thought he even heard it. He definitely heard when Steve sighed.

“Bed. Now.”

Which made Danny grin enthusiastically.

“Not like that. You need to sleep.”

“Sleep’s for the weak.” He yawned after he said it, which probably undermined his point a little.

“That sounds like something I would say.”

“Maybe it is. Maybe you’re smart.” _And cute_ , he wanted to add, but that seemed a bit forward.

“And maybe _you’re_ drunk.”

“Yep, I am. Wait. Haven’t we established that?” Why was this so confusing?

Steve’s eyes went a little crinkly. “Yeah.”

Danny frowned. “Okay, so why d’you keep bringing it up?”

“Because it’s kind of important.”

“How is being drunk important?” Had Danny missed something? He felt like he’d missed something....

Steve sighed. He sounded tired. “It just is.”

“That’s not a real answer....”

“Yes, it is, Danny. Now let’s go to bed.”

Danny yawned again. Maybe Steve had a point. Bed sounded awfully nice. “Okay.”

Steve led them up the stairs, and when they got to his room, Danny collapsed on the edge of the bed. Steve looked for a moment like he was debating something, but he swung Danny’s legs up on the bed, let him curl up on his side, and then kind of deflated a little and walked over to the other side, crawling in next to Danny. Now that he was horizontal, Danny felt himself sliding swiftly towards sleep, but he managed to scoot himself closer to Steve before he did. The last thing he felt was Steve’s arm coming to rest lightly on his hip.

“Good night, Danny.”

“Mmhmm....”

Danny woke at some point in the night, and felt Steve’s arm more firmly wrapped across his chest. He still felt a little buzzed, but that might have been because of the contact, which he snuggled further into with a contented sigh. And then fell back asleep.

Sometime later Danny woke and felt Steve’s hand running softly through his hair. His breath caught, but he forced himself to keep breathing slowly so as to not alert Steve that he was awake. _God, that felt nice._ He wished Steve would do it more often.

With a start, Danny realized he was utterly sober, and not the least hung over, which was shocking, but what seemed even more important was that _Steve was stroking his hair_. Steve, who hadn’t been drunk at all. Steve, his partner, Steve. His best friend, Steve. And then, Steve stopped petting Danny and pulled his hand away, and before he could stop himself, Danny reacted to the loss of contact with a small sound. He bit his tongue as soon as he heard it, but it was too late; he felt Steve go rigid next to him. Frantically thinking of what to do, Danny had only one thought enter his mind. The same thought that had evidently led him to Steve’s in the first place.

“What about now?” He asked, turning over to face Steve.

Steve was looking at him, his expression open and unguarded. “What about now, what?” He asked, voice a hoarse whisper.

“ _Kiss me_.”

Steve closed his eyes and sighed.

Danny waited for him to open them again, and then reached out to put his hand on Steve’s arm. Looking intently into his eyes, he took a deep breath.

“Steven. I am not drunk. I was before, yes. But for fuck’s sake. That wasn’t why I wanted to kiss you.”

Steve frowned. “It wasn’t?”

“No, you complete idiot.” Danny knew his tone was far too warm for it to sound even remotely scolding.

“So... _why_?” Now it was Steve who sounded confused, and Danny nearly laughed.

“Because I am a complete idiot and for some reason it took me being very drunk to admit that I want to kiss you.”

Steve was still frowning. Dang, why was he so slow on the uptake this morning? “You do?”

“Yeah, Steve. I do.” He tried not to sound annoyed, but it was getting difficult.

“But, why?”

Steve looked so adorable, perplexed like this, and it warmed Danny’s already soft heart. “Because you’re an idiot.” He shook his head in bemused exasperation.

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t seem like a reason to kiss me.”

“Well, it is.” And with that, Danny’d had enough, and he pulled Steve’s arm and pressed their mouths together, teeth crashing, noses bumping, and then he found the right angle, and Steve sighed against him, his mouth opening softly, and Danny didn’t hesitate, he plunged forward, and Steve pulled Danny closer, and everything just kind of melted away.

Far too soon, they fell apart, breathless and gasping.

“Why did you have to be drunk to admit you wanted to kiss me?” Steve asked, once he’d recovered a bit.

Danny grinned. “Were you ever going to admit you wanted to kiss me?”

Steve licked his lips, pressing them together. “Probably not.”

“Well.” Danny smiled smugly. “There you go.”

“We are idiots, aren’t we?” Steve let out a shuddering breath somewhere between a sigh and a sob.

“That was my point precisely,” Danny pointed out.

“Well, at least we’re in good company....”

Danny tugged on Steve, moving closer to him at the same time. “A little less talking, I think, and a little more of the kissing, please....”

Steve’s mouth quirked up at the corner, his eyes sharpened, he nodded, and then he kissed Danny for a very, very long time indeed.


	2. Steve's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's take on chapter one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve woke me up at zero _dark_ thirty Tuesday morning, wanting me to tell his side of a story, and I thought he meant the AU (which is from Danny’s POV, and is currently hovering around 16,000 words, which is a lot for me), and I said _oh no you don’t_ , and then I got up to write and saw that trinipedia had said she wanted Steve’s POV on _Zero Drunk Thirty_ , and I said, alright, _that_ we can do..... So, this happened.

Steve had been soundly asleep when he got Danny’s text. So, he can perhaps be excused for assuming he was dreaming. Fortunately, he’s got those ninja SEAL reflexes and training, so in spite of himself, he was swiftly awake and aware enough to realize, no, this was not a dream, and yes, Danny really had said “come kiss me.”

Part of him’s always wondered if this wouldn’t happen. He’d have given even odds, he thinks, of it being him or Danny. After all, he knows he’s come close on a couple of occasions... but Danny’s been with someone each time he has, and that’s been more than enough to hold him back from it.

Neither of them’s with anyone now, though. Melissa having ditched Danny when Stan filed for divorce (based on the same assumption Steve had made, that Rachel would land in Danny’s bed as she always did—he’d been thrilled to be wrong), and he himself having disentangled whatever tiny strands were still holding Lynn to him, once he had his diagnosis. Because he couldn’t do that to her.

What does it say that he doesn’t harbor the same concerns about involving Danny? Maybe it’s him being selfish, he’s not sure. He’d certainly stalled telling Danny as long as he could. And maybe that had been dumb. Danny’d been mad at him for a week after, and frankly, he knows he’s lucky to have gotten off so easily.

So, if his heart is thudding rather loudly in his ears right now, well, that’s probably only to be expected. Because really, isn’t it just like Danny to go from being mad at him and not talking, to showing up, drunk, on his doorstep, saying he wants to kiss him. He knows he doesn’t want it that way, though. So he steels his nerves against the potential onslaught (they’re both affectionate drunks, they know this about each other; it’s been a problem, or nearly a problem, before) and opens the door. Unfortunately, he’s not at all prepared for how stinking adorable drunk Danny is. His heart turns over and he’s nearly lost.

“How drunk are you?” He asks, heart in throat.

Danny tries to stand, which is clearly a mistake, and Steve catches him, winding up with an octopus-like hug, and a confession from Danny: “Pretty drunk.” _Aaaand_ a kiss on his chest. Which he admits is nice. But also makes him laugh.

“You’d better come in, Danny,” he says, looking around them reflexively. He doesn’t imagine anyone would be watching, but maybe there’s part of him that needs to know this isn’t some kind of prank.

Once they’re inside, Danny’s looking up at him so boldly, and Steve has a moment of weak will, where he’s sure his own desire is leaking out of his pores. When Danny demands “Kiss me,” like he really means it, Steve’s heart pulses with hope. But his mind—he’s sleepy but sober, after all—schools him to caution.

“You are drunk,” he says, and he regrets having been unable to keep the hurt from his tone. Why can’t they do this sober, he wonders. Is his only chance at a kiss going to be a drunk one? It’s not what he wants, and yet he wants it so much, he’s almost willing to take it.

Being drunk doesn’t seem to enter into Danny’s mental equation as a valid reason not to kiss, however. “So? Kiss me.” When he adds “Please,” so plaintively, Steve caves. Just one very soft kiss. Just one light press of the lips. He’ll allow himself that, he thinks. He’ll regret it too much otherwise. It’s simultaneously splendid and sheer torture. And he regrets it anyway. He resettles his resolve, so that when it’s clear that Danny wants more, he’s able to pull away and lead him to the kitchen.

“Okay, let’s get you some water,” he says, and gets out some Tylenol and some B vitamins, just in case. Danny obeys without protest, which makes Steve grin. He’s usually much more difficult when it comes to taking anything even vaguely approaching medicine. Soft pliable Danny, Steve decides, is something he’s rather taken with.

He’s in trouble and he knows it.

“Now will you kiss me?” Danny seems to have forgotten their kiss already. Or maybe he’s not counting it. Either way, it amuses Steve.

“I did kiss you, you goof.”

Danny looks puzzled. “Hey, that’s my line, you goof. Isn’t it?”

Steve manages to not smirk, he thinks. “Yeah, it is.” Danny’s going straight to his heart like this, he really is.

“You stole it,” Danny accuses. And it’s so hard for Steve not to laugh. But it’s even harder not to give in.

“Borrowed it,” he says softly, looking at Danny’s lips, wanting more. And Danny must be aware, at least a little, of how much Steve wants this, wants him. _Shit, McGarrett_ , he tries to warn himself. _Be fucking careful_.

“Alright, then, can I _borrow_ a kiss?” And isn’t it just like Danny, to turn that back on him.

Steve pulls himself together and moves to get Danny upstairs. He knows Danny’s drunk enough he’ll probably fall asleep as soon as he’s down, so that should be safe enough. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you to bed,” he tries not to sound miserable, though it’s kind of how he feels.

Danny for some reason decides that while walking is the time to take his shoes off, and he starts to tip over, and when Steve catches him they wind up pressed far too tightly together, and Steve can hear Danny’s heart in his own ears. _His_ heart, meanwhile, is trying to do something very dramatic, so when Danny says “Your heart is racing,” it takes everything Steve has to not pull him closer and put that racing heart to good use.

“Bed. Now,” he says instead, which was a poor choice, he knows it instantly, because the grin on Danny’s face shows he went where Steve’s mind’s just been. _Shit_.

“Not like that,” he manages somehow to say. “You need to sleep.” _And I need to fall off a cliff before I do something I’ll regret_.....

But drunk Danny’s a little irreverent, and he bites back: “Sleep’s for the weak,” and Steve’s fairly certain Danny’s quoting him. He seems to remember using that line on Danny only recently. He really needs to be more careful about that. About things he says to Danny.

“That sounds like something I would say,” he admits, trying not to gaze too longingly at Danny’s lips. (Really, he _is_ trying. It’s just damn hard, okay?)

“Maybe it is,” Danny sways a bit on his feet. “Maybe you’re cu— _smart_.” He tries to poke Steve in the chest.

He’s pretty sure _smart_ wasn’t what Danny’d started to say. Which helps Steve, because he clearly is very drunk. “And maybe _you’re_ drunk,” he points out.

“Yep,” Danny grins. “I am.” He looks puzzled again. “Wait, haven’t we established that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so why d’you keep bringing it up?”

Steve sighs. “Because it’s kind of important.”

That seems to frustrate Danny. “How is being drunk important?”

_Because it’s not really what you want_.... “It just is.” _Even if it_ is _what I want_. He knows he sounds exhausted. He’s worried Danny’ll wear away at his resolve. He really needs to lie down.

“That’s not a real answer,” Danny presses. And he’s right. But it’s the only one Steve can give right now, thanks.

“Yes, it is, Danny.” He wants to cry from frustration. “Now let’s go to bed.” He’s relieved when Danny yawns and decides to stop fighting it.

Steve leads them up the stairs, and when they get to his room, Danny collapses on the edge of the bed. For one moment, Steve thinks about whether it would be wise to try and get Danny undressed. Deciding he doesn’t need the temptation, he sighs and turns his back, sinking a little bit into the inevitability of this, knowing he had it coming. Knowing he’s been teetering on the knife’s edge of desire for his partner for far too long. There’s a part of him that wants to give in. Knowing he’ll regret it, that it will ruin everything. There’s just part of him that doesn’t _care_.

Once he’s in bed, though, Danny—who he’d thought had fallen almost instantaneously to sleep—moves back, settling closer to Steve, and Steve can’t help but feel that was half unconscious of him, and maybe that gives him the courage (or the stupidity), but he doesn’t try and stop his own hand, which seems set on touching Danny. He schools it to rest only on his hip, as much as it wants to slide up to Danny’s chest and pull him close.

“Good night, Danny.” His voice sounds scratchy in his ears, and he knows this is going to hurt in the morning. And for a long time after that. Still. He thinks it’s worth it, and when Danny sleepily replies “Mmhmm....” and it reverberates against Steve’s chest, his heart falls into a million tiny pieces.

He’s caught, wanting to stay awake and savor this ephemeral moment while he has it, but Danny’s breathing is hypnotic and it lulls him towards sleep dangerously. When he does succumb, he dreams of holding Danny close, but then he wakes with a start and realizes he _is_ holding Danny close, and his heart stutters roughly and his eyes prick with heat. He’s sleepy enough, rattled enough, and something close to high from the heady proximity of Danny that he doesn’t even think about it, he’s so far gone he couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to, because his hand’s tangling in Danny’s sleep mussed hair. _God, he’s wanted to do this for ages_. It soothes him, somehow, the softness, something about the illicit thrill of such an intimate gesture. Arms around each other are somewhat dismissible between them. But this. This is clear intimacy, vibrant tenderness. There’s no walking back from this, he knows. He gets lost in it.

And then he realizes Danny’s awake.

His hand stills, he stops breathing. And Danny whimpers. Steve’s whole body reacts before he can stop himself. He tries to swallow around the catch in his throat, but he can’t. He tries to close off some of the thoughts he’s been feeling, but he knows they’re plastered all over his face. _Well. Here goes nothing_.

Danny turns to him, and Steve is not prepared for what he sees. “What about now?” He asks, his eyes blown wide, a look of pure want as clear as day, yet Steve can’t somehow admit it, can’t trust it.

“What about now, what?” He’s stalling.

“ _Kiss me_.”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs.

Danny waits for him to open his eyes, but once he does, he reaches out his hand to Steve’s arm. It’s soft and electric, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl with desire. The look in Danny’s eyes isn’t helping.

“Steven. I am not drunk. I was before, yes. But for fuck’s sake. That wasn’t why I wanted to kiss you.”

Steve thinks he knows that, but it’s too much. “It wasn’t?”

“No, you complete idiot.” Danny’s using his famed _You Idiot_ tone, the one Steve secretly adores. It’s warm, and it’s affectionate, and it makes Steve’s heart bloom.

“So...  _why_?” He needs to understand. So badly needs to hear it, to know it’s not just him.

“Because I am a complete idiot and for some reason it took me being very drunk to admit that I want to kiss you.”

Steve’s heart is unfurling at light speed, but he is terrified it’ll just crash, so he’s holding everything as down as he can. Until he’s sure. He has no idea what it will take. He just knows he needs more. “You do?”

“Yeah, Steve. I do.” Danny’s sounding more and more annoyed, and that’s probably what will do it for Steve. That’s always been his best clue, his most reassuring measure of Danny’s fondness.

“But, why?” _Just a little more, Danny_.... Steve’s pulse is racing ahead of him, his blood is singing _kiss him already!_ He’s frowning, trying to keep it under control.

“Because you’re an idiot.” Danny’s head shakes in bemused exasperation.

Steve forces his face further in control. If he’s right, Danny’s just about to give in.... “That doesn’t seem like a reason to kiss me.” _Just one more push_....

“Well, it is.” And Steve’s whole body floods with the joy he’s barely restrained, because he’s right, Danny’s done, and Danny’s diving in and taking what he wants— _what they both want_ —and Steve can hardly believe his luck. Danny’s pressing their mouths together, teeth crashing, noses bumping, and then he finds the right angle, and Steve sighs against him, melting, opening his mouth to Danny’s insistent tongue, and Danny falls into it, and Steve pulls him closer, so much closer... and everything else melts away.

Far too soon, they fall apart, breathless and gasping.

And there’s something Steve has to know, has to ask... and once he can breathe he does. “Why did you have to be drunk to admit you wanted to kiss me?”

Danny grins, and Steve has a feeling this is going to give Danny the upper hand. “Were you ever going to admit you wanted to kiss me?”

And he’s right. Danny will use this. He licks his lips, presses them together, and it costs him, but it’s the truth. “Probably not.”

“Well.” Danny smiles smugly, and Steve doesn’t mind Danny having this over him. Not one bit. “There you go.”

Steve wants to cry, with the release of all of it. “We are idiots, aren’t we?”

Danny’s smile softens at that. “That was my point precisely.”

“Well, at least we’re in good company....” _Really, really, really wonderful company_ , he means.

Danny tugs on Steve, moving closer to him at the same time. “A little less talking, I think, and a little more of the kissing, please....”

It goes simultaneously to all the nerves in Steve’s body, and he feels everything move more sharply into focus, and his senses are heightened, his desire is mounting, and he starts to kiss Danny, wanting to never let go. And he tastes like fruit punch and vitamins and sunshine and love, and Steve knows nothing will ever be the same again.


End file.
